


Prenez garde

by amorenbalde



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorenbalde/pseuds/amorenbalde
Summary: that poem Hamilton allegedly wrote at 17 but make it gayer
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Prenez garde

**Author's Note:**

> the poem:  
> Celia's an artful little slut  
> Be fond, she'll kiss, et cetera- but  
> She must have all her will;  
> For, do but rub her 'gainst the grain  
> Behold a storm, blow winds and rain,  
> Go bid the waves be still.
> 
> So, stroking puss's velvet paws  
> How well the jade conceals her claws  
> And purs; but if at last  
> You hap to squeeze her somewhat hard,  
> She spits- her back up- _prenez garde*;_  
>  Good faith she has you fast.  
>   
>   
>   
> *prenez garde- be careful/ take care

If there's one thing Thomas Jefferson would never have thought would happen, it's that he would sit in a meeting with Washington and all the other important heads of the company, _sporting a huge fucking boner_ , and that it would be _Burr's fault._

More accurately, the fault of Aaron Burr _and his inability to say anything remotely interesting in a 30 minute speech._

 _Burr's mindless blabbering_ making Jefferson's mind wander and absentmindedly check his phone under the desk, and he really, _really_ should know better by now than to do that at work, considering he's dating _Alexander fucking Hamilton,_ a man with no fucking filter- especially so when it comes to messaging his boyfriend. Jefferson rolls his eyes when he sees the new message from Alex, because Hamilton, who'd gone home by lunchtime with an apparent cold, _knows_ the meeting is taking place. He opens it anyway, because _fuck Burr_ and his fucking inane chatter. He regrets his decision instantly.

_Celia's waiting for you.  
_

Jefferson swallows. There's an image attached: a close-up, perhaps taken in a mirror, of slightly garish pink nails holding the sharp tip of an expensive fountain pen against the pulse point of a pale neck belonging to _someone_ wearing a light bluish green dress. _Jade_ , Thomas thinks, unsure why he knows this. _The color is jade._

_Fuck._

The pen had been a near constant when it came to the more tender moments of their lovemaking. Thomas had gifted Alex a far too expensive fountain pen and ink set many office Secret Santas ago- a half intimate, half anonymous gift when all he really knew about the annoying, loud-mouthed enigma of a man was that he liked to write. Four months later, Alex had had Thomas on his back, tied up in bed, and spent far too long using it to write filthy things on Thomas's skin, teasing him, _marking him_ in an intricate manner before fucking him slowly, tenderly, completely. It had not been the last time the pen had seen such use.

 _Celia_ however is not a recent development but a rare one, and suddenly Thomas realizes why the other man had _really_ taken half a day off. He knows from the previous couple of times he'd spent time with Celia, that Alex would have _prepared_ \- he remembers the unusually smooth feel of Alex's legs that first time, his bare underarms. In his mind he can see Alex shaving himself in the shower, lips between his teeth in concentration. He imagines Alex on the sofa, painting his fingernails, then turning to his toenails, staying so unusually still while waiting for the nails to dry. Preening in front of the bathroom mirror while putting on mascara, maybe even eyeliner. Carefully covering his lips with lipstick. _All for him_ , Thomas thinks, and feels his cock twitch at the thought.

Burr is still going on about something and Thomas really tries to focus on the words coming out of his mouth but the thoughts of Alex intrude. He bites his lip to have something else to focus on other than the images of Alex's blood red lips swallowing him whole.

He's still painfully hard when Burr finishes and Washington's slightly bemused _well, that was certainly... illuminating, any questions?_ opens up the room to a slightly confused discussion and there are words and sentences and questions that Thomas can actually grasp onto. He even throws in a few questions and insights on someone else's musings, just to not feel completely useless, and by the time the meeting is finally over, he has himself, mercifully, under control.

Hamilton leaving work early with illness is a rare thing indeed so when most of the participants have shuffled out of the room, Washington already anticipates Jefferson's questioning look and just waves him off with a flurry of _go, take him some soup, that should sort him right out, make sure he gets some sleep, see you tomorrow_ , _son,_ and Thomas just smiles gratefully. Washington's authority is such that Jefferson instinctively turns the other way instead of going home, heads to Alex's favorite Chinese food place to get his man the egg drop soup he likes, before he remembers- waiting in line- that Alex is, in all likelihood, _not_ actually fucking ill. He gets the soup anyway.  
  


He finds himself proven correct when he finally makes it home, deposits the food in the kitchen and makes his way through their apartment to find Alex standing in their bedroom in front of the floor length mirror, finishing putting on a dangly pair of earrings: Alex is most definitely not ill.

What he is, is a sight to behold: His hair is up in a slightly messy bun, loose ringlets of hair framing his face beautifully: his lips are a shade of bright red, the beard-mustache combination he'd still had a few hours ago is gone; his eyes look _gorgeous_ \- covered in mascara and artfully administered eyeliner, winged cat eyes, there's a tiny bit of blush covering his cheeks. The earrings make him look regal, like a princess- _a work of art_ , Thomas thinks. A simple jade dress is falling off the man's shoulders and he's wearing _high heels_ , that's new, and Thomas knows he must look stupid, just standing there, mouth open, taking Alex in, but he can't help it.

Alex almost looks coy for a moment, bats his beautiful dark eyelashes at him in the mirror. Jefferson's speechlessness makes him smirk then and Thomas can very well not have that. It's not hard to realize what Alex needs in these circumstances, so he finally steps forward- slow, predatory.

Alex- _Celia_ looks back at him, tongue licking lips.

Thomas steps behind Alex, instinctively reaches his arms around him, and the other man turns his face to greet him with a kiss.

"Hey," Thomas says, and _hey_ , Alex says back. Thomas reaches a hand to turn Alex's attention back to the mirror, makes Alex watch as he takes him in, fully. Makes Alex watch as he rakes his eyes over him, up and down and up again, whispers _so pretty for me_ , runs his hands all over the dress, kisses his neck.

"So pretty for me," he repeats, as he runs his hands over the man's buttocks, then to the front of the dress, where it's already starting to show just how much Alex appreciates Thomas's attention on him. His own arousal is not lost on Alex who has already begun to grind back into Thomas and there's a part of him that wants to just bend Alex over their bed right now, take him just like that, but Alex has gone through a lot of effort to make himself _so pretty_ for him and damn if Thomas isn't going to savor it. He takes Alex's hand, leads him towards the kitchen instead with a gentle _come on, beautiful._

Alex as Celia never really talks, perhaps not to ruin the illusion; so his timid _you going to have your way with me on the kitchen table, mr. Jefferson? Kinky_ \- startles Thomas for a moment. He lets out a laugh and kisses Alex's forehead- while the idea sounds like a lot of fun, it's _not_ what Thomas has in mind. For now, at least.

He holds out a chair at the kitchen table for Alex and gestures for him to sit. The other man looks confused for a moment before sliding into the seat.  
  
"You haven't eaten all day, have you?" Thomas asks and rolls his eyes as Alex lets the mask slip a little, bristling back with a quick _What the fuck does that have to do with anything?_ before gathering himself and relenting with a mumbled _you did make us breakfast, remember?_

"So what you're saying is," Thomas chides, raising an eyebrow, "that you haven't eaten all day?"

Alex looks a bit guilty for that and Thomas just sighs, presents Alex with the miraculously-still-hot soup, and sits down to eat his own.

Alex, seemingly having realized there's no immediate sex to be had, reverts back to himself and it's almost like any other day, really, the two talking about work, bitching about their coworkers. Alex is still a firecracker under this beautiful disguise and Thomas loves it. The food is pretty much eaten once the two are back to arguing about different policies and Thomas is still hard. Much of it is the fault of the insolent man opposite him who has, as the conversation has flowedn on, decided to start indecently licking the spoon, moan around mouthfuls of it, and then throw himself right back into the talk with gusto.

Thomas pointedly ignores the feeling of something sharp not so subtly touching his thigh because Alex is a _brat_ and he can't just give in like that.

Not even when Alex, having dabbed his mouth with a cloth and very much ruined his lipstick, sits back in his chair and looks slightly offended but also amused: "Do you know how long it took to look _this good_?" He gestures to himself and Thomas snorts, as the man continues: "And instead of rewarding me for all my efforts, you come home and pretend it's like any other day?"

"I just wanted to take you in properly, darling," Thomas defends himself.

"I'd rather _take you in properly_ , darling," Alex wiggles his eyebrows and Thomas groans. He regards the other man with mild amusement- eyes fixated on the somewhat smudged lipstick.

"Love, your lipstick is _ruined_ ", is what he says.

"Oh?" Alex answers back sharply, looking Thomas up and down, "not the way _i_ wanted to ruin it." and Thomas snorts, finally concedes.

"Get the lipstick, wait for me in the living room," he says, before rising and grabbing Alex's face to give him a proper kiss, tongues dancing slowly.

He hears Alex's heels clicking as he puts the dishes away and cleans up a little, the chaotic _four different coffee cups_ Alex had used that afternoon, sitting neatly on the counter instead of the dishwasher nearly a step too far for Thomas's patience to bear.

When he makes it to the living room, Alex is already there, sitting on the sofa in a slightly improper manner, legs spread just a bit too wide for someone wearing a dress so Thomas makes Alex sit on his lap on the sofa instead, on his thighs, _like a proper lady_ , and turns the man's face so he can re-apply the lipstick. It feels absurdly intimate, coating Alex's lips with red- his painted lashes low as he watches Thomas's hand work. They're both breathing heavily by the time Thomas is done and Alex has taken one of the man's fingers into his mouth for just a moment, one last touch.

 _So pretty for me_ , Thomas repeats again as he leans back to watch his handiwork, and Alexander doesn't wait then, draws a loud moan out of Thomas as he grips him tight through his dress pants, his pink nails contrasting against the gray. Thomas does not stop Alex as he eventually drops down to his knees, intent on ruining his lipstick one more time.

The sight- Alex's red lips around his cock- he'd imagined in his head during the meeting had been wonderful but the real thing is a thousand-fold better. Thomas cannot help himself, lets his fingers dance on Alex's cheeks, face, lips, as the other man slowly takes him in his mouth.

The man alternates between taking him in and licking him, sucking on his balls, leaving lipstick traces down below. He takes just a few inches of Thomas's cock into his mouth, _sucks_ while working his tongue on the sensitive spot just below and Thomas knows he won't last long.

"Fuck, Alex, so good at this, so pretty, _ah_ ," and Alex _stops_ and has the gall to look _angry_ at the other man. He takes his mouth off Thomas and sits back, looking disappointed and Thomas only has a second to feel confused before he gets it.

" _Sorry_ ," he says, knowing what Alex expects from him- " _Celia_. So pretty for me. Sorry. _I love you_. Celia, _please_."

He's blabbering, needy, but Alex's face softens finally. Thomas is not fully forgiven yet, though-

"Hands on your sides", Alex demands only slightly moodily and Thomas knows better than to disobey, lets his hands fall away onto the sofa as Alex takes him into his mouth again.

"Celia," Thomas repeats again. _Celia, Celia, fuck, Celia_ he repeats between wordless sounds of pleasure, and Alex knows as well as Thomas does that he's about to come- he stops abruptly, takes the hilt of Thomas's cock into a tight grip, sits back, looking quite a sight on his knees- the dress looking as disheveled as his hair, his mouth looking absolutely abused, red, swollen.

"You wanna come on me, ruin this pretty face?" he asks breathlessly and Thomas nods, says _yes, yes, Celia please_.

"Not _yet_ ," Alex smirks. "We have all night ahead for that," and takes Thomas in again, _deep_ , leaves Thomas no choice but to come inside Alex's mouth, a promise hanging in the air.

Thomas sits back, feeling boneless and sated. He's fully intent on returning the favor though, leans down to touch Alex's cock through the dress.

"Nooo," Alex whines, bats his hand away. "Wanna come with you inside me."

Thomas ponders if he could get hard again quickly just by preparing Alex but decides against it, drags the man up to the sofa to rest for a while, that beautiful face in his lap instead, hands petting dark hair. After all, he knows what Alex needs- while Thomas will concede that he himself is most certainly a bit of a pillow princess when it comes to getting fucked, needs, _wants_ Alex to prepare him with his fingers and his tongue for as long as the other man has patience for, he knows that Alex is really _not_ like that, prefers to get straight to the point once it comes down to it.

So later then, the two having retired to their bedroom, he coats his cock with lube and hikes the dress up, pulls the _frilly lace panties_ he had not even known Alex had been wearing, _fuck_ , down to his thighs- presses the slick tip to Alex's entrance. He waits for the other man to push back as a signal, and Alex does. Thomas sinks into him _deep_ on his knees right in front of the mirror, watching his pretty, painted face, now red with more than just the blush he'd put on himself. Thomas fucks into him hard, hand on Alexander's dick. Alex is alternating between biting his lips and licking them, his tongue on display. He's moaning like a whore, Thomas thinks, and the thought spurs him forward, makes him fuck harder, squeeze Alex a little more.

"Celia," Thomas whispers, hips rolling against Alex, needy, "my little _slut_ ," because he knows what _that_ does to Alex. He can feel the other man shudder in delight, nearly there, so he drags him by the shoulders, holds him up and turns his face- strong hand at the back of Alex's head- just so he can kiss him, and Alex, in return, _knows what Thomas wants_ , awkwardly reaches behind Thomas to grab his ass while shuffling forward on his knees, Thomas following behind, moving as one.

Alex comes with Thomas's tongue in his mouth, shaking and desperately clenching around him, obscene moans filling the room.

Thomas holds off with all the will power he has left in him, because he knows the familiar sight of Alex licking his own come off the mirror, leaving red lipstick traces all over it will make him come harder than ever before.

He's not wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda wanted to tag "ink kink" just for the rhyme but it really was there only if you squint.


End file.
